It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. At first she thought that the woman was just a servant. "You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. ‘You won’t get a thing out of her. "Are you returning to Hong-Kong to-morrow by the day boat?" For a moment Ruth was astonished at the sound of the spinster's voice.
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